


Soap and Sugar and Rum

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Moby Dick References, Multi, graphic depictions of whaling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9066034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Sir! We’ve found him.” Thor’s voice caused Steve to quickly pull away, as the sound of more shoes and boots on the deck drew closer to the pair. Thor was walking toward them, hauling a young man by the shirt behind him. The boy was barely able to keep up with the Norwegian, he took three quick steps for every two Thor took. Behind Thor and the cabin boy were Morita and Dugan. Thor released the boy once they were in front of Steve.
“Where were you?”





	1. Sag Harbor, New York, 1835

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littleblackfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/gifts).



“Come on, Sam! Let’s get these barrels below deck!” Steve shouted from where he stood on the deck of his ship.

“Aye aye, Captain!” Sam rolled another barrel up the gangplank so it could join its fellows below deck. Behind him, Nicholas Fury and Gabriel Jones carried barrels as well. The second mate, Anthony Stark, came up from midship, saw someone come up the gangplank, and rushed to them.

“Rhodey! When you said that you had signed up for another voyage, I didn’t know you meant a maiden voyage. And on this ship too.”

“Well, your father made me an offer I found hard to refuse.”

“Is everyone onboard?” Steve called as soon as Anthony and Rhodey were back on the ship.

“Almost, sir. We’re just missing the cabin boy.” Thor’s deep voice answered the captain.

“Is anyone-”

“I put Dugan and Morita out to look for him. I will notify you when we’ve found the boy.” Steve nodded, and the first mate left the captain’s side.

Romanoff was still with Dr. Erskine, her fall had been quite serious, but nothing she couldn’t recover from. She was an outlier, possessing the much coveted position of third mate. The men she took on her whaleboat had to be the bravest of the crew, she showed little mercy when giving chase, and even less mercy for rulebreakers. Steve still wondered how she had managed to get out of Russia, but everyone knew better than to ask her directly; she would tell them in her own time, or else not at all.

The sound of heavy bootfalls caught Steve’s attention, and he turned around.

“James.” He pulled the brunet close to him, breathing in his scent as he did. “Hm, you don’t smell like whale today.”

“For now. Enjoy it while you can, Captain. In two week’s time that smell will be back.”

Steve pulled a face. As lucrative as the whaling business was, the smell was the biggest downside. That, and the fact that it had cost his best friend most of an arm.

“Sir! We’ve found him.” Thor’s voice caused Steve to quickly pull away, as the sound of more shoes and boots on the deck drew closer to the pair. Thor was walking toward them, hauling a young man by the shirt behind him. The boy was barely able to keep up with the Norwegian, he took three quick steps for every two Thor took. Behind Thor and the cabin boy were Morita and Dugan. Thor released the boy once they were in front of Steve.

“Where were you?”

The boy’s words came out stammered and in a rush. “M-my Aunt May kept me, I’m sorry, but she’s all I have and-”

Steve held up a hand, and the boy fell silent, shutting his mouth when he saw the look on the captain’s face.

“Just make sure it never happens again. Am I understood?”

The boy shook his head quickly.

“What’s your name?”

“Peter. Peter Parker, sir.”

“Welcome aboard the _Margaret Carter_ , Peter.” He addressed the rest of the crew, who had gathered around. “Now, this voyage has been generously paid for by Mr Stark’s father. Because of this, Mr Stark has been made second mate.” 

There were groanings and complaints from the men, but Steve rose his voice above them. “I expect you all to respect Mr Stark, for it is because of his father’s money that we will be at sea for twelve years.”

The men were silent, looking around at each other in shocked amazement. James turned to Steve.

“Captain, twelve years? You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“But _twelve years_?”

Steve turned back to the crew. “This will be one of the longest whaling voyages ever undertaken. But I know, if we get along, and work together, we can make this one of the most profitable voyages ever undertaken. Are you prepared to risk your lives for me?”

“Aye!”

“Are you prepared to catch whales?”

“Aye!”

“Are you prepared to eat bad food and get sick of each other after a few months?”

“Aye!”

“Alright then, let’s set sail.”


	2. Sag Harbor, 1835

“Lower the sails, Mr Jones! Mr Morita, go up and help him. Dr. Erskine, how is Miss Romanoff?”

“She is improving, Captain, and should be able to continue her duties within the week.” The doctor disappeared to midship, where Natasha was staying while she recovered.

“I’m happy to hear it. Pull, Mr Rhodes, pull! Help him Mr Stark.”

Anthony reluctantly got up from the barrel he sat on and joined Rhodey and Dugan in pulling the sail into position.

“I’ll turn a dandy into a whaler, isn’t that right Mr Stark?”

“Yessir Captain.” Stark spoke through his teeth as he hauled the rope higher and higher.

“What can I do, Captain Rogers?” Peter surprised the captain, who hadn’t seen him come up next to him.

“You, Peter, can help Mr Barnes when we catch a whale. For now, though, why don’t you go to midship and see if Dr. Erskine needs any help with Miss Romanoff.”

Although not happy with this, Peter went to midship and watched over Natasha while the doctor thought of ways to expedite her recovery. He met Clint, the ship’s deaf cook, and Scott, the thief-turned-cooper. Falsworth, the steward, showed up to inquire after Natasha, or Nikolai Rusanov, as she was known to those outside the crew. Peter knew Dugan was the blacksmith and their carpenter was a Frenchman named Dernier. These five men would stay behind to watch over the ship when the whaleboats went out to chase a whale.

“How’s she lookin’?” Bruce Banner, the ship’s apothecary, pulled up a stool and sat down next to Peter, who stood beside him.

“Better than she did yesterday. Her color has improved considerably. Your medicines, Mr Banner, may have saved her life.” Erskine praised Banner.


	3. Somewhere in the North Atlantic, 1835

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Catching, Lancing, and Trying-Out of Four Sperm Whales by the Crew of the Whale Ship _Margaret Carter_ in the year Eighteen Hundred and Thirty-Five.
> 
> Graphic depictions of whaling ahead, ye've been warned.

The prediction made by Mr Barnes that he would smell like whale again in two weeks turned out to be correct. After two weeks of being on the open sea, there came a call from the masthead.

“Thar she blows! Thar she blows!”

Steve ran out of his cabin, raising his spyglass to his eye.

“Larboard, Captain. Four sperm whales!”

“I see them. Good work Mr Cage! You can come down now, we’ll need you for the chase!”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

“Mr Wilson, call everyone up.”

Sam cupped his hands around his mouth. “All hands! All hands on deck!”

The sound of feet pounding up stairs and the hatch opening filled the ship, as twenty-two people came on deck.

“Mr Cage has spotted four whales off the larboard side. The whaleboats will go as follows: Mr Odinson will take Peter, Mr Banner, Mr Morita, Mr Jones, and T’Challa.”

Those six ran off to a whaleboat and climbed in, lowering it down but not shoving off yet.

“Mr Stark will take Mr Rhodes, Mr Wilson, Mr Cage, Mr Fury, and Mr Maximoff.”

The six men climbed into their whaleboat and lowed it, but waited for the last boat to be called before shoving off.

“The third boat, Miss Romanoff’s, will consist of Dr. Erskine, Miss Maximoff, Dr Yinsen, Luis, and Logan. Everyone else, you know what to do.” The last six went to their boat and lowered it after climbing in, then all three shoved off in search of the whales.

They were halfway to the whales when someone started singing “Heave Away Me Johnnies”, and the other boats joined in. Peter’s arms were sore from rowing, but it wasn’t much further til their boat was the first to reach a whale. Rowing as silently as possible, Morita picked up a harpoon and pushed it into the whale, which began swimming strongly forward, pulling the boat along with it. The boat bounced on the waves, and the men whooped and cheered as the line got down to 20 fathoms, when the whale stopped, allowing Morita to change positions with Thor. Thor, being a mate, was the only one in the boat allowed to lance a whale. He took up a lance, raising it above his head and striking the whale. Once the lance was embedded in the creature, Thor turned the weapon as much as possible, ensuring that it would be effective. The whale spouted a foam of blood and water.

“Chimney’s afire!” Thor called, and the others echoed his cry.

The dead whale floated to the water’s surface, and Thor used the boat spade to cut a hole in the whale’s tail, which had a whale line passed through so the creature could be towed back to the ship.

“Chimney’s afire!” Pietro’s voice cut through the air, Anthony had remained at the stern of the boat, looking sick.

“Chimney’s afire! Chimney’s afire!” Natasha’s voice carried clear above the ocean. Her boat had killed the remaining two whales, and would likely be the last to reach the ship.

As the boats rowed steadily back to the ship, someone began to sing “Haul ‘Er Away”, and soon all three boats were singing. They stopped singing as they neared the ship, for it was known that the Captain disproved of that song.

The biggest whale, the first one caught by Natasha’s crew, was fastened to the starboard side with the fluke chain. The Captain walked out just as Misters Dugan and Dernier were finishing the chaining.

“We’ve got a bit of a predicament here, men.” He called down to the boats. “We need all the mates to cut in the whale, and all the hands to help with the cutting so’s Mr Barnes can boil the blubber down. So, the harpooners will stay in their boats, and everyone else will come up here.”

The crew scrambled to do as their captain said. Logan, Pietro, and Morita were left in the whaleboats, while everyone else stayed on deck or went to the blubber room just below.

Thor began cutting into the whale as soon as the cutting stage was lowered above the creature, using the cutting spade just behind the eye to get a blanket piece. Natasha stood by him, mirroring his actions as Anthony leaned out to watch from the deck, visibly greening and trying not to spew sick into the bloodying waters. The hook was lowered and the blanket piece hooked, then pulled as Thor and Natasha continued cutting the piece. When it was ready, they waved to Luke, who pulled at the ropes with Nick to bring the piece up to the deck, where it was cut into horse pieces before being sent to Sam, Wanda, and Luis down in the blubber room.

In the blubber room, the horse pieces were stripped of any lean, to ensure that they could be boiled down. Wanda handled the lean removal, having a meticulous eye and a hand that was both quick and steady with a leaning knife. Luis and Sam supervised her as they cut the lean from their own pieces of blubber before handing them off to Dugan, Dernier, and Banner back up on deck.

On deck, there was the mincing horse, two-foot planks across a barrel. This was where the carpenter, blacksmith, and apothecary were stationed, cutting the small pieces further. Dernier held the pieces with gaffs, while Dugan and Banner used mincing knives to slice the blubber into bible leafs, making the blubber easier to boil. 

Once those three had made bible leaves from the blubber, Peter took a leaf with a blubber hook and brought it over to the tryworks. He did this in-between sweeping the deck of whale blood and blubber, ensuring that the ship was at least somewhat safe during this time.

As he brought the bible leaf to the tryworks and lowered it into the already rendered oil, Peter heard singing.

“Come all you tonguers,” It was Mr Barnes.

“And land-loving lubbers,” The crew responded.

“Here’s a job cutting-in, and boiling down blubbers,” He gave the oil a stir with a pot spade.

“A job for the youngster or old and ailing, the captain will take any man deep sea whaling.” The crew sang back.

“I am paid in soap and sugar and rum, for cutting in whale and boiling down some,” He skimmed the bible leaves out and threw what remained of the blubber into the fire of the tryworks.

“The merchant's fee makes my blood so to boil,” The crew sang.

“I’ll push him in a hot pot of oil.” He took up a bailer and dipped it in the oil, emptying one of the pots into the large copper cooling tanks next to the tryworks.

“Peter, get more leaves. Never leave the pots empty.”

Peter nodded, walking briskly back and forth between the trypots and the mincing horse, filling the large pot halfway with blubber before resuming his sweeping of the deck.

He had been minding his own business, keeping the deck as clear and clean as he was able, when fate intervened with his happiness.

Try as he might to keep his head down, fate somehow always seemed to find a way to mess with Peter Parker.

“Mr Odinson, we can’t get the rest of the spermaceti. We’re all too big to fit inside his head.” Luke explained to Thor. Peter swept past them, getting at a particularly stubborn bit of blood at the bow.

“Parker!” Thor called, and Peter pretended he didn’t hear him.

“Peter, come here boy.”

Peter propped the broom against the ship and walked to where Thor and Luke stood, by the massive whale’s head.

“You go in there, and get the rest of the oil.”

Peter shook his head. “No sir, I don’t want to.”

“You get down there, or I’ll ensure that you’ll sleep down there.”

Peter understood, and Luke helped him up the whale’s head, to the blowhole which had been cut to get at the spermaceti. Luke dropped the bucket down the hole, it hit the bottom with a hollow thud.

“Peter, take this. It stinks worse than anything in hell down there.”

Peter took the flattened whalebone from Sam and fit it between his teeth. He didn’t notice the intricate designs that had been carved into the bone, nor the small letters at the end, a tiny intertwined double _B_ in cursive.

Luke lowered Peter down headfirst. Sam was right, the smell was unimaginably strong. After he got over the initial stench, he took up the bucket and scooped up the spermaceti, giving Luke five bucketfuls of the stuff before it was empty and he was allowed back on deck. He thought he was safe for the rest of the day, but then he remembered that there were three other whales to try out. Peter grabbed the broom and swept the deck, waiting for the moment when Thor would call him back to climb inside another whale’s head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Bucky and the crew sing while trying out is a slightly modified version of ["Come All You Tonguers"](http://www.folksong.org.nz/come_all_you_tonguers/index.html), a shore whaling song from New Zealand. My favorite version of this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VS1Fv0zhFqE) is done by the Wellington Sea Shanty Society, on their album _Now That's What I Call Sea Shanties Vol. 1_.


	4. Somewhere in the North Atlantic, 1835

James entered the second stateroom of the officers’ quarters, shrugging off his woolen greatcoat as he went. He sat hard in a chair, pulling his boots off.

“You don’t look happy.”

He looked up. Natasha sat on one of the beds, her legs folded under her, a cigar held in one hand. She took a drag from her cigar, exhaling the smoke slowly.

“What’s up, sailor?”

James didn’t say anything, but bent down and rolled his blue socks from his feet. He wiggled his toes, earning a chuckle from Natasha. He silently stood and walked to the bed where the Russian sat smoking, sitting next her in a criss-cross style. Natasha slung an arm around his shoulders, and he leaned his head on her smaller shoulder. They stayed that way in silence for a while, until Natasha moved her arm and broke the peace.

“Zvezda moya, what is it? You’re not happy, I can feel it.”

James picked his head up and looked at her. She had this feel about her, almost a magnetism; one was drawn to her, whether they resisted or not, it made no difference.

He felt this pull, this magnetism, work its way slowly over him, wash over him like spray from a whale. He knew he couldn’t dodge her needling forever.

He took a deep breath before speaking.

“Natalia, lyubov moya, you’re my wife, and I love you.”

Natasha blinked at him.

“And you know that I also love the Captain. While I would never let either of these relationships get in the way of each other, I do feel that I have been negligent of my duties, both as an unofficial fourth mate and as a husband, to you as well as the Captain.”

Natasha smirked at him. “If you want to trounce the Captain, you could’ve just said so.”

“Natasha!” He poked her in the ribs.

“It’s true! You know I don’t care what you two do as long as it doesn’t interfere with any of our marriages. And, as it hasn’t, I’m perfectly okay with it continuing.” She pressed a kiss to James’ cheek. “Go. Be with the Captain. You can come back tomorrow night, provided another shark doesn’t come along.” She winked at him as he headed out the door.

The Captain’s cabin was behind to the officers’ quarters, which was fortunate for James, as he often divided time between the two.

After knocking on the door of the day room and hearing no reply, James walked through the room, and, finding it empty, continued to the door of the Captain’s bedroom, upon which he knocked.

“Come in.”

James entered, and nearly left the room for the sake of his own decency.

The Captain was lying on his bed in his dressing gown, staring up at the compass mounted on the ceiling. He got up when he saw who his guest was.

“Come here, don’t just stand there.”

James went to the bed, sitting next to the Captain and trying not to look at him. The Captain wore pants and a shirt, nothing more underneath his dressing gown.

“I was talking to Nat-”

“You’re barefoot.”

James looked at his feet. “So I am.” As if the thought had just occurred to him.

“Do you mean something by that?”

“Perhaps.” He smirked.

Steve peeled away his dressing gown, revealing the floral braces and white shirt underneath.

“This what you want?” He asked, and when James nodded, he removed the gown entirely. He had scarcely done so when James was upon him, removing the braces as quickly as he was able when their mouths crashed together like waves upon the ship. They broke apart suddenly, Steve working to unbutton his shirt while James let the Captain’s fly fall forward as he unbuttoned the rest of the pants.

“Why are there so many...damn buttons?” He asked, panting as Steve pulled his shirt over his head and took off James’ white braces before he began unbuttoning the worker’s shirt. They traded sloppy kisses as they worked, fingers fumbling as they flushed under each other’s touch. When James’ shirt was unbuttoned as far as it could go, he pulled it over his head, casting it aside as Steve worked his fly down.

“Wait, wait.” James put his hand on Steve’s shoulder, stopping him. “Just wait a minute, okay?” He sat on the bed, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. He willed his ears to stop flushing, for they had reddened as his body warmed.

“Are you okay?” Steve sat next to him, wearing only his smallclothes, a pair of linen shorts with a drawstring closure.

“I’m fine.” James took a series of deep breaths, and it took Steve a minute to realize what he was doing.

“Could you-?” James gestured to his fly, and Steve did it up for him, disappointed as he was.

“I just don’t think tonight’s a good night.”

“Perhaps tomorrow?” Steve asked, finding his shirt and putting it back on, leaving his pants and braces off.

“Perhaps.” James said, getting up off the bed only to turn down the covers and climb inside. Steve followed, and they held each other close as they drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha calls Bucky "little star" and he calls Nat "my love".
> 
> I should explain the marriage situation. Nat is married to Bucky, who is also married to Steve. Steve officiated Nat and Bucky's marriage, and Nat officiated Steve and Bucky's marriage. So they aren't "married" in the traditional sense. I might take this out later if it's too confusing.


	5. Somewhere in the North Atlantic, 1835

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Importance of Ceiling Compasses Or, Why the Rating Went Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains content that is NSFW. If you are uncomfortable with this, you can skip to the chapter's end, I'll mark the beginning and end of the scene with asterisks.

“James. _James_. James, wake up. It’s your turn to take watch.”

James crammed the pillow over his head. “Five more minutes.”

“It’s two o’clock. C’mon, your watch lasts until four, then you can go back to sleep, I promise.”

The pillow hit Steve in the face as James got up, stumbling around the cabin as he looked for his shirt and braces. He left for the officers’ quarters without another word to Steve. After retrieving his socks and boots and pulling his greatcoat back on, James climbed up to the masthead. He went slowly, one rung at a time, always maintaining his balance, and never looking down. When he got to the top, he slipped under one of the metal hoops before popping up inside it. James held tightly to the hoop as he scanned the dark horizon of any sign of whales.

The sky was ink, there was no moon, and the stars seemed faded and far away. As he watched, he sang, helping to pass the time.

Steve came out around three to check on him, and heard him singing.

“One day this king invited most, all of his subjects to a roast, half of his wives gave up the ghost, The King of the Cannibal Islands. Of fifty wives he was bereft, so he had but fifty left, he said with them he would make shift, for a gorge all set off swift. Fifty dead ones were roasted soon, and all demolished before the noon, and all the chiefs vowed to have soon, King of the Cannibal Islands.”

“Seen any whales?” Steve called up.

“If I had, I’d tell ya.” James called back down.

“I’m coming up.”

“Don’t you dare fall. I don’t need another concussed spouse.”

Steve climbed up, slipping into the metal hoop opposite James. There was silence for a long time, until finally James said-

“I never gave you the iron.” He frowned. “Or you never gave me the iron. Either way, neither of us got it last night.”

Steve said nothing, but kept his gaze on the ocean.

“I suppose that’s my fault. I-” he sighed, “I’m sorry Steve, but ever since I married Nat I’ve been...more self-conscious, I guess.”

“How so?”

“Well, Nat and I don’t trounce as much as you would expect, for one thing.”

Steve blushed. “How often has that happened?”

“Fewer times than we’ve done it, I’ll tell you that much. She’s sterile, so nothing will ever come of it, but still.”

They were silent for a while, until James spoke.

“What’s the date?”

“June 18th.” Steve answered, almost automatically.

“Hm. Been a year since I lost my arm. And a year since you started chasing that shark.”

“Hm.”

“You’ll never find him you know.”

Steve turned to him. “Starbuck…”

“Don’t try to sweet talk your way out of this. It’s impossible to catch a shark. Sure, he might have some distinctive markings, but you’ll never find him. And if you do, you can’t kill him. I say this because I love you, Steve. Don’t throw your life away searching for something that will never be found.”

“That shark bit half your arm off! You’re lucky Yinsen and Erskine and Banner were able to save what’s left. That creature deserves to die. He maimed you, and he has no right to live.” Steve looked up at the sky. “It’s four o’clock. Let’s go back to bed.”

They climbed down the masthead, Steve first, and James behind him. They headed back for the cabin, where sleep awaited them.

The day after catching whales was set aside for a deep cleaning of the deck and rest for the crew. Peter was put on the deck, given a broom and a bucket of sand, and told to get to work. The rest of the crew ate Clint’s food and sang and slept in the forecastle; except Thor and Natasha, who stayed in their staterooms, and Anthony, who refused to “mingle with riff-raff”, and Steve and James, who stayed in the Captain’s cabin.

“If I had the wings of a gull, me boys,” the crew sang.

“Ugh, they’re loud.” James whined to Steve. They were lying on the Captain’s bed, reading the ceiling-mounted compass. James’ greatcoat was slung over a chair in the day room; his socks were shoved into his boots, which were stashed under that room’s desk.

“We’re almost to the West Indies. You can tough it out a few more weeks.” Steve placed his head on James’ chest.

“If I have to eat Barton’s cooking one day more I might just eat Peter. Or a whale.”

“Whale would probably taste better. Parker’s small, not much meat.”

“More meat on him than there was on you at that age.”

Steve wanted to jab him in the ribs, but didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere. They might actually get to trouncing today. 

“True.” He said, sliding a hand up and down James’ thigh.

“Hm, that feels good, keep doing that.”

“I can do better than that.” Steve picked himself up and rolled over to James, until he was on his hands and knees over him. James lay there, wide-eyed, under the Captain.

“Almighty.” He breathed, as Steve leaned forward, breathing in James’ scent of day-old whale oil and Clint’s cooking, mixing with cigar smoke and Natasha’s ambergris perfume. James raised his head a little and their lips met, slow and sweet, but quickly turning heated. Steve broke the kiss and lowered himself until he was straddling James’ hips. He slowly, teasingly, unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it over his head and casting it away. His flush had spread to his chest, tinting it a light pink. James smiled, running his hand down the Captain’s chest to the waistline of his pants.

“These comin’ off too?”

“Just wait.” Their lips met again as Steve worked the buttons on James’ shirt and they broke so Steve could pull the white fabric over James’ head.

“You got-”

“Yeah.” Steve answered, pulling open a drawer and holding up a sheep gut condom.

“And-”

Steve laughed. “What’da think you make all day?” He put the condom on the bed and pulled a small, green glass bottle from the drawer, uncorking it and handing it to James. “Take a whiff.”

James sat up and smelled the contents of the bottle. “It’s fresh.” He made no effort to hide the amazement in his voice. “This from yesterday?”

Steve nodded. “Taken from the cooling tanks of the last whale. We got three hundred barrels full, we can spare a little.”

James swallowed as his cheeks pinked. “What are you-”

“Just wait.” Steve repeated, taking the bottle and placing it on the bedside table before kissing him again, slower and deeper than they had before. He worked his pants off as their lips met again and again, throwing them behind him and hearing them land with a thud on the floor. They broke for air, both flushed and warm. James sat up, pulling his legs up to kneel in front of Steve, who reached for James’ fly, but a hand on his chest stopped him. He looked up, James’ eyes, dark with desire, looked back at him.

“Let me.”

Steve nodded.

“Natasha used to help me get dressed, when the loss was new. Now,” he smiled at Steve as he flicked open his narrow fly and unbuttoned the rest of his pants, “I can do it myself, one-handed and all.”

“I’m proud of you. You’ve come a long way since then.”

***

James blushed even deeper as he untied his smallclothes, removing them along with his pants. Steve took them from him and threw them on the floor, to join the majority of their clothes. Steve was still in his smallclothes, and had no intention of removing them.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve praised James, leaning to kiss him as his hands went to his chest.

“Wait.” James’ hand was on Steve’s chest again, and Steve whined, aching in his smallclothes.

“What are you gonna do?”

Steve redirected his mouth to James’ ear, where he whispered,

“I’m gonna kiss you, and stroke you, until the only thing on your lips is my name. No more stopping and waiting. That’s an order from your Captain.”

James bit his lip. “Sir yes sir.”

“Good.” Steve grabbed the bottle of whale oil, pouring a little into the palm of his hand and rubbing both hands together to warm the oil up. He moved behind James, wrapping his arms around him and placing his hands on James’ chest, leaving oily streaks as he left a trail of kisses across his shoulders and down his spine. He grinned, James was even more flushed than before. Steve rested a hand on James’ hip as the other wrapped around him, stroking slowly up and back down, swiping at the crown before descending to the base and returning.

“You’re gonna make me swear, Steve.” James warned as his toes curled, thrusting his hips to match Steve’s pace.

“Shoot,” Steve answered as he increased his pace, spurred by the pearly mess he swept away with his thumb each time he stroked up.

“Sh--sh-” Steve silenced him with a shoulder kiss, stroking faster and twisting his wrist.

“No cussing on my ship. Or in my bed.” Steve said.

“Yessir.” James panted, feeling he was close. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Keep your eyes open. What’s our direction?”

James opened his eyes, finding the telltale mounted to the ceiling. He swallowed, trying to clear his head enough to read the compass.

“We’re headed for the West Indies, so we’re sailing-” his breath hitched, and he sucked in air through his teeth, “south.”

“We’re sailing south, who?”

“Captain.” James came, ropes of white painting his chest and Steve’s hand.

“There he blows.” Steve whispered, nipping at James’ earlobe.

James panted, his movements became erratic as Steve kissed his neck and shoulder before getting a rag and cleaning them off. He threw the rag on the bedside table.

***

Steve found their clothes, and put his shirt on before helping James with his smallclothes and pants and pulling the covers around him.

“I’ll do you-”

Steve shook his head. “Not now. Right now, you need to rest, and I need to check on my crew.” He watched James until he closed his eyes, then finished dressing and went to the forecastle, where the crew were still making merry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Bucky sings while on watch is ["The King of the Cannibal Islands"](http://digital.nls.uk/broadsides/broadside.cfm/id/16439/transcript/1). My favorite version of this [ song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mjDRxdR0Hc) is done by Kings of the South Seas, on their album of the same name. The song that the crew sings is ["Weary Whaling Grounds"](https://mainlynorfolk.info/lloyd/songs/thewearywhalinggrounds.html), my favorite version of which is also [sung](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iC7qWqSEoGE) by Kings of the South Seas, on the same album as "The King of the Cannibal Islands". It is from this song that I got the idea for the "give one the iron" innuendo. As for the pants and smallclothes, everyone wears fall front trousers/pants, Steve's have a fly like [this](http://68.media.tumblr.com/b88e1ddc716476d4e88281a6640e8b0d/tumblr_inline_nlvyulxnC01t56ltq_500.jpg), although are tan in color, and look like [this](http://68.media.tumblr.com/d5e6366bc8d5671ccf6f1d0416781e46/tumblr_inline_nlvypzQXAz1t56ltq_500.jpg) when closed, while Bucky's have a much [narrower](http://68.media.tumblr.com/32fda0f6459918619a183fa871fd8e2d/tumblr_inline_nm6wenoBRT1t56ltq_540.jpg) fly and look like [so](http://68.media.tumblr.com/8d2009a305911db7b3b834cc6ad369de/tumblr_inline_nm6wgk4OFG1t56ltq_1280.jpg) when closed, to minimize the potential for disaster. As for underwear, or smallclothes, Steve and Bucky wear [these](http://68.media.tumblr.com/22831a94bde819f2764d90509f92f902/tumblr_inline_nly39sRPLA1t56ltq_500.jpg), which to me look pretty comfortable, considering the alternative is nothing.


	6. West Indies, July 20th, 1835

“Land! Land ho!” Sam called from the masthead.

Steve came up from midship and peered at the islands through his spyglass.

“Very good Mr Wilson. You can come down now, your watch is over.” He cupped his hands over his mouth. “All hands on deck! All hands!”

Twenty-two people came on deck. Steve approached Thor, who whispered to him. Steve nodded and headed to his cabin, leaving Thor in charge.

“Listen everybody! We’re nearing the West Indies-” Thor’s voice thundered behind Steve as he headed below deck.

James was sat in a chair in the day room, the tooth of a sperm whale held firmly between his knees. He held a needle, stuck in a stick that had been sanded and polished, not unlike a tattooist’s implement, in his hand. With expert skill, he carved away at the tooth, hunched over it almost protectively, his tongue just barely poking out of his mouth. He finished his work, setting the needle behind his ear and raising the tooth up to the light, blowing away at any specks that might be in the carving. He then grabbed for a bottle of ink on Steve’s desk, uncorked it, and, taking up the needle, dipped it in the ink, wiping any excess on the lip of the bottle. The needle was placed back into the carved design, filling it in with ink and bringing out the design. After he made sure that the design was completely filled, James wiped any excess with a rag before wiping the needle clean. He placed the tooth on Steve’s desk, a little smile playing at his mouth.

“You’ve improved.”

James started, turning his head toward the door. Steve, who had been leaning on the door frame, entered the room and stood next to where James sat, placing a hand on his left shoulder. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Steve took the tooth and examined the carved design.

“It’s Miss Carter.” Steve smiled. “You’ve done a great job with this, Starbuck. It really looks like her.”

“I’m glad." James smiled. "It’s yours.”

Steve looked at him.

“I mean it. I carved your ladylove, not mine.”

“Captain.”

Thor’s voice caused Steve to place the tooth on his deck and turn around.

“We’ve docked. Permission to go ashore?”

“Permission granted. Tell the others I’ll be up shortly.”

“Aye Captain.”

Steve turned back to James. “Come to my cabin later tonight, and you can repay that favor from a few weeks ago.”

James grinned. “Yes sir.”

They walked back up to the deck together, following the sounds of the crew.

“...which caused this maiden to say,” The crew sang.

“I'll be a female sailor!” Wanda sang in response.

“This maid she was resolved to go, across the foaming ocean…”

Steve shook his head. “Always singing, you lot!”

“Well, what else have we got to do, Captain?” Natasha questioned.

“Eat and sleep, but that’s no fun.” Luis responded.

“So we sing and dance instead.” Wanda piped in.

“In between chasing whales and cleaning the deck.” Peter spoke up.

“Alright, let’s go ashore. Fresh fruits and vegetables for everyone.”

The crew cheered as the Captain and James led them from the beach to the nearby village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that the crew sings is ["The Rambling Female Sailor"](https://www.marinersmuseum.org/sites/micro/women/goingtosea/songs.htm). Jenny Gall did a [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJE7QBJ3pEg) of this song that is both beautiful and haunting. The dress that I pictured Bucky scrimshawing Peggy in is [this](http://images.metmuseum.org/CRDImages/ci/web-large/CI55.67_F.jpg), a lovely 1835-36 silk dress from Europe. I believe her hair would look something like [this](http://68.media.tumblr.com/c6d248e33b75c02b8feaceb957a1d342/tumblr_inline_nlhlycQPDD1t56ltq_400.jpg).


	7. West Indies, July 21st, 1835

After a day of fresh food and onshore festivities, the crew returned to their ship, where they slept. Except the Captain, who had his mettle fetched that night in his cabin by James.

***

“Ah, Starbuck! You’re good, you’re good, you’re so good.” Steve babbled, leaning forward and pressing his shoulders to James’, sweat glistening off their bodies as the Captain rounded off.

***

After James got the rag and cleaned them both off, they got under the covers of the Captain’s bed, holding close to each other as they talked of the voyage.

“We’ll sail northeast to the Azores tomorrow, then south to the Cape Verde Islands and Africa’s west coast.” Steve pointed to the telltale at every direction he gave. “We head for the Falkland Islands after that. Then it’s the Davis Strait in the summer, and maybe a bit of Arctic whaling before returning for Sag Harbor.”

“And you’re positive this will take us twelve years?”

“We can always stretch it out, go to Japan. Morita’s told me of the whales they have there. I think people would pay more if they knew the oil they were using came from foreign whales.”

“As long as we can make a profit, and neither of us die, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

A peaceful silence descended upon them, only to be broken by James.

“Will you marry Miss Carter when we return?”

“Mm, maybe. I know Anthony has his heart set on her chief lady-in-waiting, Pepper. And Thor’s been sweet on her other lady-in-waiting, Jane, for a while now. But I don’t think he’ll marry her.”

James gave Steve a quizzical look.

“Something about him tells me he won’t. I think he’ll either return home, or give his life to his craft.”

“Hm.” James settled back down. “What if we die, Steve? What’ll become of us?”

“Well, you’ll turn into shark food--” James punched him in the arm. “Ow! I’m joking, I’m joking. I--I don’t know Starbuck, that’s...that’s tough.”

“Well I know you can answer this one. Why do you call me Starbuck? It’s kinda childish.”

Steve turned on his side so he was facing James.

“There was a family in Nantucket who had the name, the first time I heard it, I thought of you. And it stuck, ever since.”

“Hm.”

“Now go to sleep. We have a long day of sailing ahead of us.”

“Goodnight Steve.”

“Goodnight Starbuck.”

As they drifted off to sleep, they didn’t hear the sound of bootfalls leave the door outside the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use some antiquated terms throughout this fic; this is done to try and give it some more authenticity. By using terms that people in the 1830s would have known and used, I'm hoping to make the fic that much more accurate. Fetch mettle is a fun phrase, according to [definition-of.com](http://www.definition-of.com/fetch%20mettle), it's an "obsolete British expression of the 17th century", defined by Captain Francis Grose in his 1811 [_Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue_](http://www.fromoldbooks.org/Grose-VulgarTongue/m/mettle.html) as "the act of self pollution".


	8. Somewhere in the North Atlantic, July 22nd, 1835

The sails filled with a favorable wind the next morning, and the ship headed for the Azores. By midafternoon, Luis spotted three whales off the starboard side, and the crew rushed to their boats to chase them. When the first whale was chained to the ship, and the cutting-in and trying out begun again, then the crew began to sing, lifting the somber mood that had prevailed on the ship since they left the West Indies.

“I wish with my heart I was far away from here, A-sitting in my parlour, and talking to my dear.” Natasha sang, as she and Thor finished cutting a blanket piece from the whale’s middle.

“And it's home, dearie, home! oh, it's home I want to be. My topsails are hoisted, and I must out to sea, For the oak, and the ash, and the bonny birchen tree, They're all a-growin' green in the North-countree; Oh, it's home, dearie, home! oh, it's home I want to be.” The rest of the crew sang, Natasha included.

The Captain came up as the song was finishing, and caught James’ eye as he hoisted bible leaves into the try pots.

“Captain, might I have a word?”

“Yes, Mr Odinson, of course.” Steve broke his gaze from James and walked to where Thor and Natasha were working, on the starboard side.

“Captain, I do not mean to pry, but last night I heard some concerning conduct between you and the tryworker.”

“Let me tell you something, Mr Odinson. I am both this shop’s captain and her sole owner. I may conduct myself however I wish, and it is none of your business Mr Odinson,” Steve leaned in, their noses nearly touching, “who I sleep with, do I make myself clear?”

Thor looked down at his feet. “Yes sir.”

Steve pulled back. “Good. If I hear that you have been listening in on personal, private conversions again, Mr Odinson, I will not hesitate to have you flogged.” Steve walked back to the hurricane house, where Clint kept his ingredients.

James rendered two hundred barrels of oil that day, plus the ten barrels of spermaceti Peter brought out from the heads. This brought the total barrel count to six hundred twenty-six, including the oil from the four whales they had caught earlier, and a single whale they had caught while en route to the West Indies.

James collapsed that night on the Captain’s bed, exhausted and sick of the sun. He closed his eyes, listening to the waves gently hit the ship, and the call of seabirds as they conversed with one another, flying in the dark. The bed creaked, and James opened one eye to see the Captain sitting next to him, smiling down at him.

“Natasha kick you out?”

James snorted. “Nah, I came here on my own, Nat hates the smell of whale oil. I can’t blame her.”

“And yet she uses perfume made from ambergris.”

“That and I found her with Barton. Which is fine, it doesn’t bother me, I just think...maybe I should divorce her.”

“You’d really do that?”

“If she’s happier with another man, then yes. You remember the reason I married her in the first place.”

“Of course. But I think that time-”

“-is over. The laws don’t apply to us, we’re safer here than on land, and if worst comes to worst, you can always marry Miss Carter.”

“And do what you did to Natasha?”

“It was a mutually agreed upon relationship. We would play the part of husband and wife until it was safe for us,” James gestured to himself and Steve, “to be together. And I think it’s safe now.”

Steve frowned. “I still think we need to be careful. Thor was listening in on us last night.”

James sat up. “What?! Did you threaten to tell the crew about why he left his homeland?”

Steve shook his head. “I wish I had. I just told him that he could be flogged if he did it again.”

“If he does, could I be the one to flog him?”

Steve winced. “That’s a little sadistic, Starbuck. This isn’t _The Valkyrie_ , we don’t do that sort of thing for fun.”

“I know that.” James responded, with a roll of his eyes. “I’m only saying, if he does do it again, I’d like to be the one to flog him.”

“I may just have the crew take turns flogging him. At any rate, our sin is nothing compared to his.”

“What did he do?”

“You don’t know?”

James shook his head.

“He can’t return to his home for twelve years because of what he and his brother did. Well, his adopted brother, but his brother nonetheless. They were caught navigating the windward passage, and to keep some of his dignity, he left the country. He hasn’t been back since.”

“You think that’s why he joined this voyage?”

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “Could be. He’s been here for five years, whaled with us for three. Maybe he just likes the life, like us.”

James yawned. “Yeah, like us.”

Steve put a hand on James’ back, rubbing up and down. “Go to sleep, Starbuck.” He removed his hand as he stood and made for the door.

“You’re not coming?” James was disheartened as he pulled the covers back.

“I want to finish charting our course. I’ll come back soon, I promise.” Steve walked back to the bed and bent down over the lamp on the bedside table, blowing it out as James settled down. Steve pulled the covers around him and placed a kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight Starbuck.”

“Goodnight Steve.”

Steve went to the day room to finish charting their course. It occurred to him that night, as he climbed into bed, that he was in love, truly in love, with James, and that he would do anything to protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song sung by Natasha and the crew is ["Home, Dearie, Home"](http://www.jsward.com/shanty/HomeDearieHome/smith1.html).


	9. Off the Coast of the Falkland Islands, 1838

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omadhaun: Irish; a foolish man or boy
> 
> Gomerel: Scotland and North England; a fool.

“Three years on the sea, and no incidents or bad luck. I’d say that’s pretty good.”

“And two thousand barrels of oil, not bad either.”

“Are you wearing something under there?”

James smirked. “Are you?” He gave Steve’s ass a firm squeeze, earning a yelp from the Captain.

“Not outside, you omadhaun.” The Captain swatted his hand away.

“Then we’ll go inside.”

“Are we even?” Steve asked, pinching James’ ass as they climbed below deck and headed to the Captain’s cabin.

“Ow! Yes, we are.” He opened the door to the day room, which Steve closed behind them, watching as James walked behind the desk, the dark pattern of his kilt dizzying as he spun around and sat in the Captain’s chair.

“That’s my chair.” Steve pointed to where James sat.

“Oh, really?” James feigned surprise, placing his hand on the right armrest. “I had no idea.”

“Stand up.” Steve stepped closer.

“Make me.” James was defiant.

“Are you challenging your captain?”

James smirked. “Perhaps.”

“You never answered my question. Are you wearing anything under there?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” James stood, keeping his hand curled around the armrest.

Steve walked to him, trying to quiet his pounding heart as he undid James’ belt, letting his kilt drop in a heap of tartan.

“Worn like a true Scotsman.” Steve grinned at him. “Sit.” James sat, hand fumbling with the straps and buckles of Steve’s own kilt.

“Let me, don’t trouble yourself.” Steve swatted his hand away as he undid the buckles himself, his black wool joining James’ navy tartan.

“Worn like a true Irishman.” James grinned. “Your ma’d be proud.”

Steve joined James, straddling his hips as their lips met, sweet and slow.

“So’d yours.” Steve said, when at last they broke away.

“She’d better be, that’s Hubbard tartan.” He pronounced it “Hoo-bard”, in a way that conjured up images of rolling green hills and stone fortresses.

“Shall we frig?” Steve asked, pushing open a button on his shirt.

“We shall.” James responded by beginning to unbutton his own shirt.

“Captain?”

They fell silent, neither even daring to breathe.

“Captain Rogers, we’re nearing the Islands, sir.”

“Very good Mr Maximoff. Is that all?”

A pause, a beat, a moment of silence.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you Mr Maximoff.”

They waited until Pietro’s footsteps faded away before resuming their activity.

“Are we doing each other or ourselves?”

Steve considered his answer while unbuttoning his shirt, throwing it on the desk next to them.

“Ourselves.”

And so they did.

“James, wake up. It’s time for your watch.”

James stirred and woke, blinking in the dim candlelight. He had slept on the desk, slumped over with his arm as a makeshift pillow. He scooted the chair out from under the desk, wincing as he made to stand and had to unstick his ass from the leather.

He scrubbed a hand over his face as Steve helped him get smallclothes on, finding a shirt and putting it on as Steve helped him with a pair of pants and socks. He tugged his greatcoat on, the navy wool scratching as Steve found his boots. James gave Steve a kiss on the cheek as he headed out the door, walking up the stairs in silence. Once he got on deck he yelled to Logan that his watch was over, and waited for him to come down before he went up.

He sang a different song this watch, keeping his eyes on the dark sea.

“Farewell to Tarwathie, adieu Mormond Hill, And the dear land of Crimond, I bid you farewell, I'm bound all for Greenland and ready to sail, In hopes to find riches in hunting the whale.”

“Nothing?” Steve called when he came to watch with him at three.

“No, sir.” James called back, watching as Steve climbed the masthead and slipped into the ring opposite his. Steve sang as he watched, much like James did.

“We will sail the salt seas over, And then return for shore, And still I live in hope to see, The Holy Ground once more.”

“Gomerel.”

Steve stopped singing and turned to James. “What?”

“You shouldn’t follow me up here. What if something happens to you?”

Steve laughed. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me, Starbuck.”

Silence fell again, the waves the only sound as they hit the ship.

“We still have nine more years left.” James sounded defeated.

Steve scratched at his neck. “I think we’ll go to Japan.”

“Morita will be pleased.”

“I’m sure he will be.”

When James’ watch finished, they climbed down the masthead and went to the Captain’s cabin, where they slept until Sam’s cry of “Land! Dead ahead! Land ho!” woke them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Bucky sings is ["Farewell to Tarwathie"](http://www.darachweb.net/SongLyrics/FarewellToTarwathie.html), a Scottish whaling song. Steve's song is ["The Holy Ground"](http://www.thebards.net/music/lyrics/The_Holy_Ground.shtml). Although Steve is of Northern Irish descent, there are no strictly Northern Irish sea shanties, which is why he sings about Cork and not a Northern Irish town. I pictured Steve's chair would look like [this](https://www.1stdibs.com/furniture/seating/armchairs/late-regency-library-chair-original-tufted-leather-england-circa-1830/id-f_4169743/) without the wheels. The idea for Bucky and Steve to wear kilts came from the seventy-second chapter of _Moby Dick_ , where Melville writes: "...Queequeg figured in the Highland costume- a shirt and socks- in which to my eyes, at least, he appeared to uncommon advantage; and no one had a better chance to observe him...". Bucky's kilt is similar to [Jamie's kilt](http://whisper-of-the-eyes.tumblr.com/post/136783377594) from Outlander in that it would be hand-pleated and belted. As for Steve: "Black wool kilts, [traditionally](https://www.scotweb.co.uk/mens-wear/kilts-and-kilt-outfits/kilts/irish-kilts) an Irish garment...". His kilt is similar to modern kilts in it's straps and buckles, as well as being already pleated and wrapping around the wearer.


	10. Japan, 1842

They did not stop, but sailed from the Falkland Islands to Japan, chasing and flensing and trying out whales as they went. By the time they reached Japan, they had near four thousand barrels of oil, plus hundreds of pounds in ivory, teeth, and bones. They whaled off Japan’s coast, always pulling into a harbor at night. Morita went ashore whenever he could, happy to be back in his home country. Thor stayed on deck, eyeing him with something that resembled jealousy.

The crew had a wild party that first night in Japan, with Morita bringing bottles of sake on board. He offered some to Steve and James, who both declined and continued with their own drinks; Steve with his stout and James his scotch. They were able to sneak down to below deck, both of them itching to get the other out of his clothes, and had gotten to the day room when they were stopped.

“You two have been spending an awful amount of time together.” Pietro said, sat in the chair across from the Captain’s.

“And you aren’t supposed to be here.” James growled. Steve placed a hand on his stomach to stop him.

“Thor told me everything.” Pietro uncrossed his legs, getting up and circling his superiors. “But I could have easily pieced it together myself. The late-night trysts, the watches together, the use of oil for unspeakable actions.”

“He snitched! I knew it.” James hissed in Steve’s ear.

“Calm down, I’ve got a plan.” Steve stuck his foot out, Pietro tripped and landed on the floor, cursing in Sokovian.

“We do nothing illegal. You and your sister on the other hand…” Steve took on a threatening tone.

“That’s nothing but rumors! You have no proof!” Pietro removed his hand from his head, blood staining his hair an even darker shade of brown.

“And Thor has no proof except his own ears, and no one will believe him after his flogging tomorrow. As for you, I won’t spread these rumors if you don’t tell anyone what Thor told you.”

“I won’t! I swear.”

“Good. Now get out.” Steve opened the door for him, and when Pietro was close enough, he banged it against his head, causing him to fall to the ground, unconscious.

James nudged him with his foot, and when Pietro didn’t move, he turned to Steve. “What will we tell the crew?”

Steve shrugged. “That he passed out and hit his head. We should move him to the forecastle, I don’t want him to wake up and get sick all over the day room.”

Steve took Pietro’s ankles and James his wrists and the two of them carried the unconscious Sokovian back to the forecastle, where they put him in his bed before sneaking back to the Captain’s cabin. Steve sat on his bed, kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor as James kissed him roughly. They broke apart so Steve could unbutton James’ double-breasted greatcoat, revealing his bare chest, flushed pink. The greatcoat joined the shirt on the floor.

Above them, the crew began singing.

“I’ll sing you a song of the fish in the sea,”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Always singing, my crew.”

“And we’re bound for the Rio Grande!” James sang the line.

“And my beau.” Steve laughed as his lips met James’ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that the crew sings is ["Bound for the Rio Grande"](http://brethrencoast.com/shanty/Rio_Grande.html). This link is actually pretty cool; in addition to having the lyrics to that particular version of the shanty, it contains an mp3 with a cover of whatever lyrics you're currently viewing.


	11. Near the Coast of Greenland, 1847

As they sailed closer to the Northwest Passage, the crew grew more restless. With six thousand barrels of oil, the slightest storm could prove fatal to the twelve years of whaling the crew had put in.

“They’re singing again.”

“For the Davis Strait we're bound,”

“And I think Wanda’s dancing.”

The quick thud of boots on the deck came in answer, for Sokovian women wore boots instead of shoes.

“Starbuck…” Steve pulled a pillow over his head. “Wake me up when we’re back home.”

James elbowed the Captain in the ribs and earned a pillow in his face, which he threw behind him. “C’mon we’re almost to the Strait. We sail to the Passage, do a bit of whaling, and sail back through the Passage to the Harbor again. We’ll be home before you know it.”

Steve propped his head up on an arm. “You’re right, we’ll be home soon enough.”

“Our ship full up with oil, my lads,”

“They’re so loud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crew sings ["Bonnie Ship The Diamond".](http://www.irish-song-lyrics.com/Bonnie_Ship_The_Diamond.shtml)


	12. The Northwest Passage, 1847

Peter was sure that this voyage would be the death of him. The bitter cold, combined with the ever-present danger of whaling, would be his death, he was sure. He swept the deck of whale blood and oil, keeping his head down as the rest of the crew sang.

“Chasing whales through ice and snow. Go down you blood red roses, go down. Oh, you pinks and posies, Go down you blood red roses, go down.”

Natasha and James divorced in 1835, and James took up living with the Captain, who officiated Natasha and Clint's marriage. Everyone seemed much happier after this, although the only ones who knew about it were those involved.

After the crew had caught and tried out as many bowhead whales as they could find, they sailed back through the passage and down the Davis Strait, towards the Harbor where they had begun their voyage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The crew sings [ "Blood Red Roses"](http://shanty.rendance.org/lyrics/showlyric.php/bloodred), perhaps one of the most famous and well-known sea shanties.


	13. Sag Harbor, New York, 1847

“Come on, Sam! Let’s get these barrels up from below deck!” Steve called from the deck of the ship.

“Aye aye, Captain!” Sam hefted a barrel onto his shoulder and walked up the stairs to the deck, followed by Logan; who carried two barrels, and Luis; who dragged one. Steve frowned at Luis as he walked past.

“What? It’s heavy.” Luis defended himself.

Steve shook his head as James came up, carrying a barrel on his good shoulder. Steve took the barrel from him and set it on the deck, drawing him close.

“Ugh, you smell like whale.”

James laughed. “I thought you enjoyed the smell, Captain.”

Steve pulled a face. “After whaling for seventeen years, you’d think it’d grow on me.”

“What will we do now?”

Steve sighed. “Go west? I’ve heard there’s gold in California. The industry’s failing, after selling the oil and the baleen, ivory, and bone, we’d have quite a bit of cash.”

“Steve…”

“I could sell the ship. You, me, Miss Carter. We’d all head west together.”

“What if there’s war, Steve?”

Steve shook his head. “We’re whalers, what would they want with us? All we do is chase whales and sing.”

“Aye Captain.”

They laughed, standing there in the bright sun as gulls flew overhead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a [ mixtape](http://8tracks.com/valkyrieshieldmaiden/soap-and-sugar-and-rum) of all the sea shanties and whaling songs mentioned in this fic, if anyone's interested.


End file.
